Hope Takes Flight Read Free Page A

twenty-nine and the oldest of the boys still at home, hugged her. “Good to see you, Sis.” Logan grinned. “Never mind how old I am. You look great.”
    Lylah turned to face Lenora. “How pretty you are! Let me look at you!” She held the girl at arm’s length, admiring the ash blond hair, the hazel eyes. “My, you are lovely! How old are you now? Twenty-four?” She shook her head. “And not married. What’s the matter with the young men around here?”
    â€œThey don’t have any sense, that’s what’s the matter.” Gavin, twenty-two, shoved past Lenora and stood in front of Lylah. He had dark hair and eyes, much like his father’s mother. “About time you got home, Sis,” he said. “We thought you’d forgotten us.”
    â€œNot likely. Where’s Christie?”
    â€œRight here.” Christie Stuart, age eighteen, pushed her way through the crowd and collected her hug from Lylah. With her very blond hair and dark blue eyes she was extremely pretty. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home, Lylah. We’ve waited so long for you to come.”
    They talked rapidly, babbling, everyone trying to catch Lylah’s attention, and then as she lifted her head and saw her father come to stand on the porch, she quickly went to him.
    â€œHello, Pa,” she said as he stepped down. He hesitated, then he put out his arms, and she went into them as she had when she was a little girl. He held her and she clung to him. When she stepped back, there were tears in her eyes. “You look fine, Pa,” she whispered. “Real fine.”
    But in truth, William Stuart did not look at all well, and she was shocked at the changes in him. Instead of the muscular, athletic man she remembered, her father was bent and gaunt, and there were wrinkles around his eyes. His chestnut hair still had reddish glints, but it was streaked with gray with the familiar white streak running from front to back on the left side where a minie ball had plowed through his scalp at the Battle of Five Forks, the last battle of the Civil War. He had been only twelve when he had joined up after his own father had been killed at the Battle of Nashville.
    â€œIt’s good to see you, Daughter,” Will said quietly. He tried to smile, but she could see that he was deeply affected by the meeting. “Come on in the house and tell us what all you been doing.”
    He led the way in and the other children followed. When they were inside, Lylah saw her stepmother standing in the door that led to the kitchen.
    She walked over to greet the woman. “Hello, Agnes. It’s good to see you again.”
    Agnes Barr Stuart made no move to welcome Lylah—no handshake, no hug. Agnes had been one of William Stuart’s “lady friends” and had trapped him after his first wife had died. Agnes was still an attractive woman with lustrous sable hair, but her lush figure was beginning to run to fat, and there was an icy light in the green eyes. She had been a loose woman. Still was, according to gossip in the valley. What concerned Lylah most, though, was her treatment of the children. From their expressions, it was easy to see that they despised their stepmother.
    She nodded slightly. “I’ll fix you something to eat.”
    â€œOh, that would be nice,” Lylah said. “I really am hungry.” Then she thought, “Oh, we left Donald out in the car! I forgot!” She ran to the door and called, “Donald, come in.”
    Donald got out of the Ford and ambled up to the porch, putting one foot on the bottom step. “No, I’ve got to be getting back, Lylah,” he said with a warm smile. He shook his head when Will and the others insisted, saying, “No, this is a family reunion. But if you need any preaching done before it’s over, give me a call.” He grinned as he added, “I’ll be sure to take up a collection